


Treehouse

by junior_writes



Series: Carry On Countdown 2020 [8]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe- No Magic, Carry On Countdown 2020 (Simon Snow), Day 9: Kids/Childhood, First Meetings, M/M, becoming friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27861162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junior_writes/pseuds/junior_writes
Summary: Day 9: Kids/ChildhoodThere's a boy in Simon's tree house
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027180
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Treehouse

**Author's Note:**

> prompt list from [@carryon-countdown](https://carryon-countdown.ttumblr.com/) on tumblr !

There’s a boy sitting in Simon's treehouse. His dad built him the treehouse, before he left. It’s the only good thing Simon has left of his father. The house is full of sad reminders, of broken glasses and shattered picture frames, and his mom who sometimes can’t seem to get out of bed, yet still tries so hard to put on a happy face for Simon. 

Anyways, there’s a boy sitting in Simon’s treehouse, and Simon doesn’t know what to do. Simon never thought anyone would be able to find the treehouse. The woods behind his house are rather dense and the wood of the house matches the bark of the surrounding trees. Simon likes to think of it as his own secret hideout, a hideout away from school and homework, a hideout away from the fights his mom and dad would have. This treehouse is the place where Simon escapes from the world, where he can pretend to be the Golden Hero and slay dragons and save the world from bad guys with his mighty sword.

Simon doesn’t know how to approach the boy. He doesn’t have many friends, and he’s not very good with words. His only friend, Penny, does the majority of the talking between the two, so it’s a nice balance because Penny likes to talk  _ a lot _ , and Simon rarely likes to talk at all. 

Simon looks up at the boy, standing directly under his feet that are dangling from the edge. The boy has long black hair and reddish tan skin. He’s dressed in fancy clothes, at least fancier than the ratty t-shirts and oversized jeans Simon owns. He’s pretty, Simon thinks to himself. Are boys allowed to be pretty? Simon shakes the thought out of his head and builds up the courage to speak.

“You’re in my treehouse,” Simon says, his voice a little raspy from disuse. The boy startles a little bit then regains his composure. He looks down at Simon, then around the treehouse. 

“I don’t see your name on it,” the boy retorts, and Simon finds himself liking him a little bit less. 

“Actually,” Simon says as he makes his way towards the ladder and starts climbing it. Once he reaches the top, he points to the railing nearest to the ladder where the letters  _ S.S.  _ are etched into the wood in sharp letters. 

The boy looks at the letters and then at him and shrugs. “ Oh, well, my bad I suppose.” He looks forward again. 

Simon makes his way towards the boy and sits next to him, his feet dangling off the edge. Simon notices that the boy’s legs are longer than his, and it bothers him just a little bit. “I’m Simon,” he introduces himself. “Simon Salisbury. What’s your name?” 

The boy turns and looks at Simon up and down, as if he were trying to figure out if Simon was worthy of knowing his name. “Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch,” he says, holding his hand out to Simon. Simon takes it, and is a little shocked by how cold his hand is. 

“Your name is long, is there anything I can call you by?” Simon ponders.

“My family usually calls me Basil, and my Aunt Fiona calls me Baz,” Baz responds, still looking out into the woods. 

“I like Baz, it’s nice.” Baz hums a response. They sit in silence for a bit, and it bothers Simon. Usually, when it’s quiet, he’s alone. He can’t stand the silence while in the presence of someone else. 

“So why are you up here?” Simon asks.

Baz releases a big sigh and plays with his fingers. “My father, his new wife  _ Daphne  _ just had a baby. I guess the baby’s my sister now, but I don't want her. And she cries all the time, I can barely hear myself  _ think.  _ I hate being in my house. I wish I lived with my Aunt Fiona.” Simon watches as Baz wipes a tear off his cheek with the sleeve of his jumper. 

Simon puts a hand on Baz’s shoulder, causing him to look up. Simon notices the color of Baz’s eyes- a striking grey that matches the sky on a stormy day. “I’m sorry,” Simon says.

Baz gives him a half smile. “It’s not your fault, Simon.” Simon simply shrugs. 

“If you’d like, you can come here when you don’t want to be at home. That’s what I do,” Simon offers with the smile. 

“I’d like that,” Baz responds. 

“Also, if you want...,” Simon starts, shyly, while looking down at his hands to avoid Baz’s piercing gaze. “Maybe we can. Um. Maybe we can be… friends?” Simon looks up at Baz hopefully. Simon’s never asked anyone to be his friend before. When he and Penny met, Penny simply announced that they were going to be best friends, and Simon simply went along. He’s nervous that Baz will say no, and quite frankly is afraid of rejection. 

Something warms in Baz’s chest. No one has ever asked him if he wanted to be friends. Ever since his mother died, he’s felt like a burden. A burden on his father, a burden on his Aunt Fiona. He never bothered making friends because he didn’t want them to burden themselves with Baz’s presence. It feels nice to know that Simon  _ wants  _ to be his friend, and he hopes that Simon doesn’t feel obligated to ask.

Baz nods. “I’d like to be friends.” Simon’s smile grows, crooked teeth on full display. 

“Cool! Now anytime we want to hang out, we’ll just meet here.” They start to make friendly conversation, talking about school and hobbies and their favorite books and anything that can come to the minds of two eleven year olds. They’re talking about dragons when an idea pops into Simon’s head. He pulls out the small carving knife he found in the garage and heads towards the steps again.

“You keep a knife on you?” Baz asks, astonished.

“Shut up, I’m doing something,” he retorts with his face twisted in concentration as works around the edge of the tree house. Once he’s done, he blows away remnants of saw dust and puts his arm out with a “Ta da! Now the tree house is mine  _ and  _ yours.” Baz raises an eyebrow (Simon didn’t know people could even do that) and comes over to where Simon is kneeling. There, next to the carved  _ SS.  _ are three new letters,  _ BGP.  _

Finally, for the first time since his mom died, Baz feels at home.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](https://junior-writes.tumblr.com/) !


End file.
